Watching You
by OXBastetXO
Summary: A little boy’s wish comes back to haunt his Father.


Title: Watching You  
Author: OXBastetXO  
Rating: K+  
Archive: Please ask first  
Status: Complete  
Category: Drama/Angst  
Summary: A little boy's wish comes back to haunt his Father.  
Spoilers: Salvation  
Sequel/Season: One  
Authors Note: The inspiration for this come from Rodney Atkin's song "Watching You".

I don't own them, CW does. I'm just borrowing them for while and promise to give them back when I'm done, though I might just keep Dean and the Impala little longer ;-)

Watching You

By

OXBastetXO

John Winchester drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the Impala and glanced over at the little boy sitting in the seat beside him. Dean saw him looking and looked up and grinned around the chicken nugget he was stuffing in his mouth. John chuckled and smiled back.

"You ready to go visit Mommy and little Sammy?" he asked the little boy.

Dean nodded, the sandy bang of his hair falling down in his eyes. "Do you think Sammy would like a chicky nugget?" the four year old asked, eyeing the last two nuggets. "Or some fries?"

John chuckled. "I don't think he'll really be ready for those until he gets some teeth, Ace."

Dean regarded him solemnly and then stuffed the nugget in his mouth. "When does he and Mommy get to come home from the hosbitl?" the boy asked, around his full mouth.

"Hospital," John corrected. "Tomorrow. You remember, you have to be gentle with your new baby brother."

The little boy regarded him with very serious green eyes. "Yes, sir. I'll take really good care of him. I'm his big brother and that's what big brothers do," he informed his father.

John struggled not to smile with the little boy being so serious. He started to answer, only to notice the light in front of them flashing abruptly to red. He snarled under his breath at the light. Where the yellow go? He slammed his foot on the brake and the impala's brakes protested as the tires slid to a stop.

Dean's supper shot across his lap, fries, nuggets and orange drink suddenly air born. The drink up ended all over the boy's lap soaking his jeans in orange.

A four letter word came out of the four year old's mouth and John stared at his son.

He wasn't quite sure how if to laugh or scold the boy. "Dean, where did you learn to say that?"

The little boy grinned up at him. "I've been watching you. That's what you said. I want to be like you, Dad. Mommy said if I eat all my food I'll grow big and tall like you."

John's heart swelled. "You will, tiger," he said, ruffling the boy's hair. "Just don't say the words I say like that around you're mom."

Dean grinned and nodded.

* * *

John dove for the cover of the Impala and cracked open the sawed off shotgun, dumping out the spent rounds and shoving in a couple fresh rock salt cartridges. Rocks pelted the car as he snapped the shotgun back shut and thumbed back the hammers. He took a deep breath and steadied himself. He shoved himself up and brought up the shotgun and the night exploded in gunpowder and rock salt.

The ghost shrieked and dissolved in front of him. Dean grinned at his dad, holding the other shotgun, smoke curling from the barrel. "I got it Dad. You get the bones," the sixteen year old announced, reaching for his dad's loaded shotgun.

John thumbed the hammers down and handed over the loaded weapon. "You know what to do?"

Dean laid the spent shotgun on the back of the Impala and clutched his Father's gun. He smiled at John. "I've watched you, Dad. I know what to do." he teased, lightly.

"Yeah," John said, clapping his shoulder before grabbing up the bottle of lighter fluid and can of salt he had dropped.

* * *

John stood watching his boys. Dean looked him in the eyes and then slipped the colt into the back of his jeans. Sam hovered at the side of the truck. He looked like he was going to start arguing again, but a look from Dean stopped him.

John knew what was going through his oldest's mind and he gave him a small smile.

He had to do this. Too many lives depended on it. Not just theirs, but too many other people. People they cared about.

Dean knew that too. Dean knew like he knew.

"_I want to be like you,"_ Dean had said when he was little.

John felt a twist in his heart. Dean was. Too much so.

Too much so.


End file.
